Chiel's scar laden body hit the ground, clothes torn and tattered, blood pooling into the cracks. He mustered up the strength to lift himself up on his half-attached wrist and lay on his back desperately working his tablespoon of remaining blood throughout his body.

"'I must feed my people' quote the Rich land of abundance." She grabbed Oshun's cup on the edge while all attention laid on Mikaél and carefully placed it on the floor without a sound. "Okay," Mikaél rationed "How about 7,000 Nale, 10 crates prepared dishes, and 20 barrels of wine delivered by Heartscape?"

Oshun sat up, "I suppose ~". She cut open the palm of her hand with her sharp claws and held the closing wound out. "A contract, then." Mikaél did the same, shook her hand and made a verbal promise. "I, Mikaél Axis will grant —"

"Will ensure," she corrected.

"I, Mikaél Axis will ensure that 7,000 Nale, 10 crates prepared dishes, and 20 barrels of wine."

"Is presented to Djinn Genei in the capital of Macros." she finished sealing the contract. A small circle appeared on each of their wrists and their sclera flashed red. The ceremony is complete. He kissed her circles, encircling his thumbs around them. Djinn raised his hand to her mouth; feeling his anticipation she lingered just beyond the hairs of his knuckles.

"Lord of La Rahim, Hanahl River. Lord of Bhel Lago, Nerium Mors"

** Cough ** Mikaél cleared his throat to greet his guest.

"so much life!" The husky man barefoot was only an inch taller than Mikaél, but the marvel of him standing tall so full of essence made Mikaél small and irrational. "Hanahl River," he held out his hand and shook his hand firmly. "It's good of you to make it."  It would have broken a lesser man's hand, but Hanahl simply pulled away ignorant of Mikaél's internal loss. Hanahl looked around the room, nodded at every participant before landing his gaze on Chiel, a husk of his earlier beauty. He walked towards him wincing at the current state of him: skin and bone slowly decaying into a mummy, conserving energy.  "It was good." Hanahl kneeled near Chiel's head. "I was having a nap under my favorite tree." He gently lifted Chiel's head into his right hand. "There was a bunny that had made its way into my hammock." He continued his story while scraping his free wrist across Chiel’s teeth, splintering the vein in two, blood bursting into the man’s reddening lips. "And offerings added to my pile. Barbeque on the wind. You know what else? There was no cries, no screams, no whining to solve this or that beast of the week. Until out the sky - a threat out the mouth of another." Hanahl glared up at Mikaél. On his knees Hanahl's presence towered over him. "Who are you to command?"

"Aye Aye" Nerium's brown sugar curls bounced in agreeance. he grinned from ear to ear, showing off his very back gold tooth as he mockingly chewed air nuts. This was a play for his amusement.

"Sit down, boy!" Oshun chastised, with defiance he obeyed. He took his seat next to her, turning it around so the back rested against the table. His banner, a pirate’s flag: two water lines, two mirrored scimitars, and a single smiling vampire tooth.

"This meeting concerned your people." Mikaél answered.

"I have one people, and he has many." Hanahl pulled his arm away from "people" and took one deliberate step and faced Mikaél, his light fabric swayed with the wind of the large movement. "You govern them," Hanahl gestured outside the wall. "You do not govern us. You do not govern me. There are no kings here." He walked past him and sat in his seat to the left of Mikaél. "Start your meeting. Speak to him." He replenished his lost blood with the cup laid out and placed his head down on the table. 

Exasperated, Mikaél looked down at Chiel stretching, high on the blood coursing through his veins. 'He could take it from him.' A momentary predatory thought crossed Mikaél mind, but he pinched it away.  "Make yourself presentable." He waved the man away then returned to his seat. "Oh, and bring a cup of water."

Hanahl raised his head.

"Wooowe!" Nerium jumped on his chair, perched like a gargoyle. He bounced on the balls of his feet waiting for his latest dose of entertainment away from home.

"It's quite alright." Chiel reassured his maker, dusting off his half-strung clothes as he rose to his feet, stringing his bag across his chest. He returned promptly in fresh clothes and two glasses of water. He placed one to the left of Mikaél and Hanahl, then stood behind Hanahl's chair. Their banner: a single leaf with branches growing north and south surrounded by braided rope then four fans, glowed. In Its light Nerium's soft stubbly shadows and shamrock eyes emphasized his growing caramel artistry as he looked at Mikaél. "Grandpa, lets get this party started." Everyone looked at everyone else, because to Nerium everyone was old, not understanding how little a couple of centuries mattered to his kind. "I'll go first." He stood up in his chair hoisting one leg on the table. "Look at this," he stroked his chine. "I need more Tributes that matches my glory. preferably ones that don't pickle in the sun."

Djinn nodded in agreement as she bent down and added her glass to the ground. Beautiful Tributes are always a must.

Misha pondered. He could not tell the difference; most his Tribute was small or an animal.

Chiel dug through his bag in search of a writing utensil. "This thing spites me." He muttered.

"How about you feed them?" Oshun lifted her hand to smack his behind, but he covered it in time. "I would!" Nerium pointed at Djinn, "but she is poisoning my fish."

"WHAT, no one touched your fish, I should. Who else, but you would dare to tamper with my spices?"

"see" Nerium looked around for allies. "She admits it. You think I touched your flavored salt and grass, so you retaliated. I would never touch someone's food supply."

"So, you didn't have your people steal my girls."

"Only the pretty ones." Nerium sat down. "And that doesn't count. Aint get tah keep 'em dem chickens done placed a kissed of death on my bruthas and poof." he reenacted.

"Speak correctly" Oshun lectured. "I know your sister did not teach you that way."

"Speaking of." Mikaél rummaged through his pockets and placed a simple ring on the chair to his right then poured the glass of water Chiel delivered over it.

"Do not speak of her." Nerium spat behind Oshun.

** Tssss ** Their attention was called to steam, which thickened into fog, a silhouette of a woman. The fog, inside out like bubbling lava made out of snow began to solidify layer by layer, snow into ice. Then the temperature in the room lowered again as the ice gave way to smooth obsidian, a sculpture adding details. The curvature of a bosom, wrinkles of an areole, lines of ribs and curls cascading into one another forming loops and zags fighting for dominance. Misha wide-eyed quickly stood up removing his over coat once he realized what was happening and went to Solanine's seat, but there was another set of freezing clouds that washed over her coloring her spirals on her head and thick lashes white. while the rest of the steam that lingered gathered around her creating a thin white nightgown. She opened her eyes full of living clouds and met Misha's awkward, concerned gaze. Solanine looked up at him following the outline of his blotchy shape. "Solánine" he spoke softly, holding open the jacket for her to step into. "Misha," she rose to cradle his cheek. "My Friend, Misha." she lightly kissed both cheeks then slipped into his oversized jacket. He wiped the dust off his palms then gave her extra support to sit back down before reluctantly returning to his seat.

"Fuck. No!" Nerium raved nearly tripping over his chair to leave once his sister moved her head to address the party. "Send me a letter. Fix my fish. I'm leaving!" He directed Mikaél.

Solánine moved her head in his direction. "Num Num I can never apologize enough to fill all your seas but allow this drop some closure."

"No need." Oshun reminded her. "What else were you to do?"

Nerium hissed at Oshun. "Your hollow drops could fill my cup, and I would die of thirst. Give me your trust. Give me your honesty!" He took a couple of steps back to the table, placing both his palms down, leaning into her from a distance. "Give me your eyes. Look at me."

Hanahl sat up and looked at the last-born vampire in pity and went back to sleep. Oshun looked down, Misha looked away, while everyone else waited on Solánine. The clouds in her eyes circulated into a brewing storm as she contemplated a known answer. "Right." Nerium accepted. Oshun placed her hand on his, "Please stay." She squeezed. He slid his hand away and grabbed the back of his chair. He purposely tortured the chair to ear scratching screams as he drug it across the room into its new resting place, a corner, a foot from Chiel's dissipating blood.

"Let's began." Misha picked the first paper from his pile.

"Does anyone have a pen?" Chiel asked still rummaging through his bag. "My bag seems to have eaten mine."

Only two people planned on taking notes and one of them doesn't have a pen while the other wouldn't give them one to gouge out their eyes, but they did make a suggestion. "Let Solánine look at it."

"Madam?" Chiel removed the bag from across his chest and presented with two hands to Solánine. "Oh! Chiel," She patted his face. "Hanahl treating you well." She accepted his bag and felt the bulk of the canvas, feeling around its pockets, several patched holes, mixed matched buttons, straps, and seams then she slipped her hand in the edges of its mouth and felt the fading sigils. "I did not make this, neither none of my students, but it is well loved and angry."

"How can it be angry if it is loved?" Chiel asked shocked and confused. Everyone smiled thinking of a time when they've tried or conspired to have each person in the room killed at least once. "Have you ever been angry that Hanahl's given you too much work or your talents could be appreciated elsewhere?"

"No. My purpose is what he has given me."

"I see." Solánine handed the bag over to Misha. "Have a look," and he did. Half his body felt around inside, looking for clues and hints. "Hmmmm," he pondered. "That would be a nice project." He seemed to be speaking to a person inside the item. "That'll work for now, thank you." He pulled his body out with several different makes of pens in his hand, from common to customary.

"Oh," I was looking for that. He reached for an intricate glass pen. Misha held it just out of reach. "Your bag desires structure. When you get the chance throw a few shelves inside." Misha handed Chiel his pens and bag.  "In a years’ time, come I will give you better system."

"I will." Chiel promised, slipping the bag back over his neck and returning to Hanahl's side.

Mikaél tapped his nails, growing with each frustration on the table. "Now, let's begin. First we will discuss letters I've received from most of you." **Clink** "Then proceed to probable solutions and causes, laws, then miscellaneous." He continued. "I will now read a witness testimonial submitted by a Lieutenant General of Finsole. The Record states: I don't know. It was unusually cold. I could see my breath then a woman singing then next." Misha struggled to ignore the sounds of pewter rolling to a stop. "Thing I know I'm being saved, but there couldn't have been more than a few second nor more than a minute. End statement. It's written that the subject died the next morning in its bed, ears bleeding." He took a sip. "Anything you would like to add."

"Yes," Oshun answered. "Our training centers are low, and the watch is dwindling, soon we will not be able to provide security or aid to those who need it. The past few months the wake of first light is always met with a scream or two when the maids deliver a snack to the guards. The poor women find the people hung up with any of makeshift rope."

"Maybe your training is too tough?" Nerium mocked.

"I have considered, but it only happens in the odd number towns, and they showed no signs of discontent. There has been two instances where they were caught in the act. One could not be reason with and silently fought to follow through and the other admitted that it was out his control, but he didn't make it through the night for further questions. (**Clink**) I've already sent letter to Solánine an—"

"Wait, my apologies" Mikaél held up a hand. "Lady Oshun, but what is that sound." Everyone looked around the room, some listening intently to the nothing. Annoyed at the lack of effort Mikaél pushed back his chair and crouched under the table. He scanned the legs, skirt, feet and shoes nothing until he noticed an empty cup. He reached for it, on guard against a traitor. A growl. "What the fuck, " he stumbled back, a paw swiftly tucked itself under Djinn's dress. "Is that?"

Before Djinn could feign ignorance a creature with hooves and croissant horns flew through the air amongst splintering wood and hinges. It caught on its distorted claws before slamming into the wall. Djinn scooped up the cub from the ground into her hands while it growled at the potential threat.

"You forgot one." Nerium laughed kicking his feet in the air in anticipation for their final guest. "Save him." A pleading baritone voice rumbled from the settling dust.

"King of the Wildlands." The creature still tried to do its job. "Chief of Xiuhutae" a man grunted under the weight of an enormous, broken and bleeding body of a wolf. His body struggled as he lifted one leg to kick down more walls to make way. "Save him," he begged again.

"Chief of Xiuhutae, Lord Maerik." The guard corrected standing ready to take action.

Maerik hidden underneath massive amounts of fur walked over to Solánine and gently rolled the body to the ground. He lifted one knee, moved his blood matted hair out of the way and revealed his ruby set. "He's not healing." He went on to explain. "You have to fix Freddrick." Tears darkened his clay skin to form streaks matching his eyes. "He's all that I have." He petted the wolf to ease his labored breaths. Solánine followed the sound with sadden eyes. She listen to its bones scraping against pointed ends of another, raised hair shiver in pain, his slowing heart, and something more. Something alive corroding him from inside. She had never come across anything like this. She thought it was best to control what could be first. "I can lessen his pain and mend his bones, but the other thing." She looked down at the beast. "It will take time."

"Yes," everyone of Maerik's pointed teeth widely thanked her.